Fianna Bua, Lady of House Bua, never thought that she'd be riding off to war for the liege lord she hadn't even met.
But oaths are oaths, the Buas have fought alongside the Starks for centuries and she wasn't about to be hailed an oath breaker.
So w...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"CHROI!" Fianna Bua's voice echoed across the open square, prompting a few heads to turn with curiosity at the commotion. Their interest didn't last, heads swiftly turning back to their task upon recognising it was their Liege Lady who was causing a scene.
Fianna's cheeks flushed red in embarrassment as she finally caught up with her wolfhound. Chroi was already eight months old, and she was doing a truly terrible job of teaching the pup obedience.
Her kennel masters had offered time and time again to train the wolfhound, but she had promptly refused. The dog was a welcome distraction in recent times and she found comfort in him, no matter how unruly he could be.
He had grown so much since she had first laid eyes on him. The wolfhound proved to be her father's final gift to her - not counting the promise of keeping her birthright and ruling as Lady of Baelfort.
Fianna remembered the night vividly in her mind, unlikely to ever forget the night she was handed Chroí. She had awoken in the middle of the night to the unmistakable patter of horses outside. Elated with the thought of seeing her father again, Fianna had sprinted downstairs in her bedclothes with not a care in the world, all but flinging herself outside to greet the carriage.
Yet it was not her father she was to meet with.
One of his men had approached her with a grave expression on his face, and it was at that point she knew. Cillian Bua was dead.
Fianna had been in a daze as it was explained to her, only hearing small tidbits of it over the roaring rush of blood in her ears. He had died on his travels back to Baelfort, desperately trying to reach home before his body gave out.
The men that travelled with him had kept his body in the carriage, to preserve it so they could bury him here - where he truly belonged.
After the servants had pleaded with her endlessly to return to her chambers and rest, to which she responded to with violence if they dared touch her - it was then that another of the Bua men approached her, a small bundle in his arms. Despite the grief she was submerged in and the tears that blurred her vision, she could make out the shape of a small animal.
The wolfhound was dark grey, the colour varying in hue throughout his fur with a sheet of white coating his belly. His floppy ears and large dark eyes drew her in immediately, the girl always having had a tender spot for animals.
She could only bring herself to nod her head as it was explained to her that Cillian wished her to have him, that he felt they belonged together. Before the explanation was truly over, she scooped the bundle into her own arms and finally returned to her chambers to rest - the wolfhound in tow.
Fianna lay all that night crying as her new pup desperately tried to soothe her sobs, licking her face relentlessly.
Tensions had been high at Baelfort for the previous week. Ever since the Stark boy had called upon his banners, Fianna was desperately packing belongings and calling upon her men.
